


Omovember Day 20

by AllThingsGeeky



Series: Omovember 2019 [20]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Omorashi, Omovember, Omovember Day 20, Other, Sickfic, Vomiting trigger warning, Whump, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 09:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21505777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThingsGeeky/pseuds/AllThingsGeeky
Summary: Using a towel or pillow to hold it(Emetophobia warning in this one for any of you who don’t like people being sick, please skip this one!)
Series: Omovember 2019 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533119
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	Omovember Day 20

Peter woke up at two in the morning feeling absolutely awful. He’d been feeling off all day, having woken up with a sore throat and a headache the morning before; that only got progressively worse as the day went on. By the time he went to bed his head was throbbing and he was starting to feel giddy when he moved too fast. Peter had initially elected not to say anything; after all, he figured it was just a migraine- which he had fairly often and could usually sleep off with the help of his super drugs. But a migraine wouldn’t have woken him up in the night with a burning sensation in his throat and a temperature that left him shivering, despite the three blankets he had draped over him. 

He was sick. There was no denying it. But Peter wasn’t  _ meant  _ to get sick, not anymore; not with common illnesses such as the flu- which is what this felt like, or at least the beginnings of. He hadn’t caught a regular virus like that since the bite thanks to his immune system being heightened; though Dr. Banner disagreed with that statement. Bruce insisted that Peter still caught such infections but due to his speedy metabolism his body just dealt with them quicker; so rather than being laid up in bed for two days, the boy could get over a twenty four hour bug in two hours tops. 

That being said, Peter’s increased metabolic rate also meant the spread of infection within his own body was quicker; so things that he was already prone to, such as bladder and ear infections, would take hold much quicker than they used to. That’s why it was so important he tell a responsible adult when he didn’t feel well, in case he needed medication to tackle it. 

He just felt silly. He was fifteen years old, he didn’t want to have to go into one of the adults rooms in the middle of the night to say that he felt sick; it was embarrassing. That’s what little kids do with their parents, not teenagers with their work colleagues; though admittedly he had a much more intimate, familial relationship with each of his teammates now, that’s still what it boiled down to. And Peter was determined not to bother anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. Even though he knew Mr. Stark- well any one of the Avengers, really- wouldn’t mind if he woke them up, he didn’t want to. He just didn’t want to worry anyone- he was fine, he was a big boy he could deal with this by himself. 

But oh god he felt awful. After he woke up he figured going to the bathroom and splashing some cold water on his face would make him feel better; but other than emptying his bladder all that endeavour achieved was making him feel even more disoriented. As soon as he stood up a wave of nausea hit him like a freight train and he had to swallow hard to avoid spitting up. Maybe he ought to go tell someone-

No, he’d be fine until morning. He hadn’t thrown up. So long as his temperature stayed down he’d leave it until everyone else was already up. And who knows, maybe he’d feel better by then. 

After sitting up for a while trying to will his stomach into settling, Peter laid back down and tried to go back to sleep. Tried being the operative word. The poor kid kept going between being freezing to feeling like he was on fire- and his entire body was aching like he’d just completed a triathlon. His skin itself was feeling horribly over sensitive too, every time his blanket touched he felt sparks of electricity running all over him; like someone had replaced his sheets with a giant Brillo pad. 

After around half an hour of tossing and turning, Peter gave up. He was going to have to tell someone. Not only because he didn’t want to get even sicker, but he didn’t have access to his medication; he had to ask Bruce. The adults insisted it was due to security measures, since even simple medications like Tylenol had to be specifically formulated at a much higher dosage and concentration due to his metabolism- but Peter thought that was bull. If that truly was the case, why was Steve allowed to have his stuff on him? He had a super metabolism too. It was just a ploy so Peter would be forced to tell someone when he didn’t feel well- but this time he didn’t care. He was willing to tell someone if it meant he could get some relief. 

Besides, Peter had just manually recorded his temperature- and no sooner than he did so JARVIS chimed in. 

“Master Peter, your temperature is elevated even by your standards. I suggest you go to Master Tony.” Peter sighed. He knew if he didn’t follow the AI’s ‘suggestion’ he would run and tell Tony anyway, so now he didn’t have a choice in the matter. 

“Yeah I know..” Peter grumbled but he hesitated. 

Fortunately the AI knew Peter well enough to understand what the issue was. “He hasn’t been to bed yet, Peter, so you don’t need to worry yourself about waking him up.”

“Oh.” Peter said quietly. That did make him feel marginally better, but that still meant if he went to Tony now he’d be keeping the man up even longer. “Is he-“

“Down in the lab, yes. Shall I inform him that you’re going down or would you like me to call him up sir?”

“No no, it’s fine. I’ll go down and d-don’t tell him, please Mr. J, he’ll just worry something is wrong.”

“But something is wrong, Master Peter.”

“Yeah I know but- just lemme tell him. Please.” 

“As you wish.” 

The AI stuck to his word and didn’t mention to Tony that Peter was coming down to see him, let alone that he was up at all. Hence why Tony was shocked when a small figure appeared in the hallway. 

He looked up just as Peter was coming through the glass doors and he saw the boy; looking disheveled and still in his pajamas, which wasn’t shocking considering it was- Hmm, what time was it? Tony hadn’t checked. Whatever it was, it was either too late or too early for spider babies to be out of bed. “Hey kid, what’re you doing up?” 

“Uhm..I-I couldn’t sleep.” Peter said quietly as he shut the door behind him. 

“Nightmares?” Tony asked. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Peter to come down in the middle of the night after a particularly bad dream. The boy never wanted to talk about them, and he rarely wanted comfort, like Tony he preferred working to keep his mind off of things. However, during those instances Peter tended to get dressed first and this time the kid was still distinctly dressed in his Chewbacca pj’s. 

Peter just shrugged and entered further into the room, sitting down across from his mentor and instantly laying his head down on the desk. That was when Tony got a good look at the boy’s face; his complexion to be more specific. Peter’s skin was flushed and mottled, tinging both red and an alarming shade of grey in blotchy patches- that Tony noted were running down the kids hands too. His parental instincts instantly went into overdrive and he stood up from where he was working and walked over to the kid without a second thought. “You feeling alright?” 

Peter shrugged again, closing his eyes as he pressed his face onto the work bench. The smooth surface was cool and soothing to his burning skin and for a second he felt as though he could finally fall back asleep; that was until his usually touch shy mentor pressed the palm of his hand onto his forehead, causing a searing pain to run through his skull as Tony was a little too rough. Peter hissed slightly and winced, squeezing his eyes shut tighter. 

“You’re burning up.” Tony tutted under his breath. He had never seen the kid sick before and he had to admit it was scary. For a second he wasn’t sure what to do, feeling panic bubble up in his chest before he shook the feeling away. Now was not the time to get semantic, he had to think practically. “Sit up for me.” 

Peter groaned as Tony gently moved him by his shoulders until he was sitting up straight. “Mmf.”

“What’s wrong?” 

“Don’ feel good.” Peter mumbled. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt even worse; maybe it was because he was with Tony now and his body felt safe enough to relax fully into illness knowing the man would take care of him- Peter wasn’t sure. But he was sure that if Tony kept jostling him he was going to be sick. “Mr. Stark don’ move me.”

“I’m not moving you kid.” Tony said seriously, brows furrowed in concern. He was barely touching the boy but Peter was swaying dangerously. “Does anything hurt?” 

“Jus’ my head. ‘Nd my tummy.” Peter added pitifully, trying to lean forward again but Tony wouldn’t let him. The man was insisting on holding him upright and trying to have Peter face him; even going as far as to kneel down on the floor beside him to try and encourage the kid to do so. “‘Nd I got a fever.” 

“Yeah I’ll say.” Tony muttered under his breath; he wasted no time in pulling up JARVIS’ surveillance footage to see just how high the kids recorded fever was and he was immediately concerned. “104, that’s hot even for you.” 

“Can I have some medicine please?” Peter begged brokenly. He was starting to feel beyond sick now; his head was absolutely throbbing like someone had his it in a vice and he couldn’t even open his eyes without the room spinning. He just wanted to lay down again but he couldn’t, not with the pain how it was. It was even getting difficult to swallow now, his throat feeling as though it was closing up on him. 

“Of course.” Tony said automatically, not liking the way the kid felt he had to ask. Of course he was getting some medicine, Tony wasn’t about to just leave him to get on with it. “Come on, lay on the couch I’ll run up and grab you something, alright?” 

“Mhm.” Peter mumbled, moving to stand up; as soon as he did so his knees gave out and he went tumbling forward, luckily right into the arms of his mentor- who was stronger than he looked. Tony managed to catch the full weight of a fifteen year old on pure reflex, that was impressive; though Peter didn’t have the cognitive function to think about that right now, he was more worried about muttering apologies. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to- sorry Mr. Stark-“

“Tony. It’s Tony. We’ve established this. And you’re fine kid, I got you.” Tony assured the child in a slightly exasperated tone. The boy was seconds away from smashing his face on the floor but he was more worried about the sudden invasion of Tony’s personal space. The man had been waiting there for a reason after all; and even if they weren’t  _ quite  _ at the causal hugging stage yet, the pair were still a lot more familiar than they once had been. They’d come a long way since that awkward half hug situation in the car (even if Tony did look back fondly on it and occasionally teased the boy). 

Tony practically carried Peter to the couch, which was no easy feat as the teen tried to insist he was fine and could walk unaided; though it was very clear he could not. His legs were wobbling like a newborn calf and every few seconds he paused, breathing deeply and swallowing hard.

“You gonna hurl?” Tony asked bluntly, to which Peter adamantly shook his head. “You sure?”

“M’fine. Jus’ wanna lay down.” Peter murmured through gritted teeth but there was an urgency to his voice that Tony could tell meant ‘shut up and put me down’; to which the man humbly obliged. 

Once he had Peter settled on the couch that was where the boy stayed for the remainder of the night. Tony set about giving the boy some pain and anti-sickness medicine, as well as something to bring his fever down; after using a medical scanner to check Peter bloods for sign of infection. Fortunately there was no sign of one, meaning Peter didn’t need antibiotics But unfortunately that meant his boy had caught a virus; which was in some ways even scarier. That meant his kid wasn’t as invincible as they once thought he was and now Tony had to worry about his kid catching illnesses, as well as the myriad of other worries he already had for the boy’s welfare- brilliant. Like him getting injured, kidnapped or killed wasn’t enough, he had to worry about fucking flu season too. Couldn’t the poor kid catch a break? 

Tony was perfectly content with another sleepless night as he stayed in the lab, watching over the boy as he slept. He had been planning an all-nighter anyway, but now he couldn’t focus on the task he’d been working on. Every time Peter so much as twitched in his sleep Tony's eyes shot up. The boy slept soundly for a few hours, the medicine knocking it out of him, but just as Tony started to relax and get back into his work the kid stirred. 

And not gently either; Peter sat bolt upright and Tony didn’t need two seconds to figure out what was about to happen. Before the boy’s hands could fly to his mouth, he was leaning over the side of the couch and retching violently; thankfully his mentor had quick reflexes and the forethought to place a trash bin near to the boy. Tony launched forward and stuck the receptacle under the boy’s nose just as he started to vomit. 

“Easy kid, I got you, you’re alright.” Tony muttered soothingly, moving to rub the boy’s back as he coughed and spluttered. 

In between gasps Peter attempted to talk, apologise as he always did, for something he had no control over. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry you should have to- you shouldn’t have to do this I’m so- god  _ ow-“ _

“Shh, Shh, Shh, you’re fine. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before kid, you’re fine.” Tony continued speaking softly, not rising to Peter’s level of panic which honestly surprised him. He was proud of himself for how well he was tackling the situation, despite panicking about his ability to care for an ill child only hours before. This mentoring thing wasn’t nearly as difficult as he thought it would be- well. Other than the emotional turmoil of having to see the poor kid lose his dinner. It really tore at Tony’s heart strings to see the usually bright and bubbly kid so physically and emotionally distressed; but it brought him some solace to know that he was actually providing comfort to the kid. Despite Peter’s verbal protests, he leaned into his mentors touch, especially when Tony held his head up and smoothed his hair away from his face; which was now slicked with sweat but fortunately not vomit. 

After a few minutes Peter’s stomach was finally empty; at least to the point where he could lay back down without the worry of choking. He was able to control the convulsions, even as his stomach contracted angrily, trying to rid itself of whatever irritant had Peter’s body going haywire. It took a moment for the teen to gather his bearings, after being woken from a dead sleep to vomit in a room that wasn’t his own- with a fever that was already numbing his brain slightly, it took a second for him to come back into himself and realise what was going on- and just who it was going on with. He looked up at Tony with a guilty, ashamed look on his face. “I’m so sorry, that was so gross-“

“Stop apologising.” Tony said sternly. “I’m not having it. Are you done?”

“I think so.” Peter grimaced, stealing a glance at the contents of the trash bin; that was now holding the contents of his stomach, a decision he immediately regretted because it made his tummy lurch again. 

Tony nodded but didn’t move. He continued to pet the boy’s hair for a moment longer but Peter mistook that as a sign that Tony wanted him to deal with the mess, and tried to sit up. “Ah-ah. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To deal with-“ Peter swallowed and pointed a thumb at the can. “-that.”

Tony rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to snap at him. “Lay down. I’ve got it.” 

“But-“

“Down. Now.” Tony said authoritatively, in a tone the boy couldn’t argue with. 

Though he laid back against the sofa he still made his discomfort known verbally. “You shouldn’t have to-“

“Shut up.” 

“It’s not your job-“

That comment left Tony feeling slightly insulted. More than slightly insulted- after everything that they’d been through together he felt it was pretty well established that this wasn’t a normal boss/mentee relationship. “Then what is my job?”

Peter sank back a little, as he could see he’d struck a nerve (though he didn’t understand what that nerve was at the time) and he really didn’t want Mr. Stark to be mad at him right now. “To.. I don’t know..”

Tony shook his head watching as the boy looked around the room. “Not Stark stuff, I mean with you kid. What’s my job with you.” This time Peter cast his eyes to the floor, looking mildly uncomfortable about being reprimanded. “I’m your legal guardian. Teach you, guide you, and take care of you right? Don’t you think this falls under that last category?”

Peter shook his head swallowing. “It’s too much Tony-“

“You’re too much.” Tony rolled his eyes, intending to leave the conversation there. He couldn’t in all good conscious continue lecturing the kid after he’d just thrown up; hence why he finished with such a weak quip. But apparently Peter was feeling a little emotional given his current physical state and his chin started wobbling. 

“Yeah I know that’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t bother all I do is cause problems-“ Peter sniffled and Tony immediately went wide eyed. 

“No no, hey Pete, it’s okay. It’s okay I didn’t mean it.” Tony said quickly, moving to resume petting the boy’s hair to prove that he was only kidding and he didn’t mean it. “You’re okay, just get some more rest, yeah? You’re exhausted, you need to rest if you’re gonna feel better.” 

“M’sorry.” Peter sniffled. Tony wasn’t sure what he was apologising for; insulting him, being sick or crying, though the man had a feeling it was for all of the above. 

“I’m sorry too kid, I hate seeing you like this.” Tony mumbled quietly. “Just get some more sleep.”

“You need some sleep too, Mr- Tony.” Peter corrected himself at the last second. 

“Don’t worry about me.” Tony smiled, both at the boy using his name and how concerned he was over his welfare; the boy had just puked his guts up but he was more worried about Tony getting adequate rest. “It’s okay, kid. You’ll feel better in the morning.” 

Except Peter didn’t feel better in the morning. If anything he felt exorbitantly worse. No sooner than the boy’s eyes opened he rushed into the bathroom to vomit again- only he didn’t make it and ended up puking half on the floor and half in the chemical sink. After that the kid essentially passed out and Tony had to call Bruce down just to make sure the kid wasn’t you know  _ dying.  _

So as you could imagine, when Tony got a call from Coulson demanding he go to a disciplinary meeting for a fellow agent to provide evidence, he was less than thrilled. “I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.” 

“No I’m not.” Tony said flatly, no hint of anger in his voice. He sounded totally calm, totally firm in his decision; showing how he wouldn’t be convinced otherwise. 

“You have to, I don’t have time to come down there from Ohio, I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork right now I need you-“

“My kid needs me.” 

Coulson’s tone changed to one of concern. He didn’t need to ask who Tony was referring to, even though he noted just how jarring it was to hear Tony admit that Peter was ‘his kid’ aloud. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s sick.”

“How sick?”

“Been up all night puking and has a fever high enough to melt steel.”

“Has Bruce checked him?” 

“Yes.” Tony said shortly, not offering any more information- but Coulson pressed on; Tony knew should he describe just what was going on Coulson would downplay it. 

“So what’s causing it?”

“A virus.”

“So nothing serious.” 

“You don’t think a fever of 105 is serious? Would you like to come and deal with him puking every time he takes a sip of water? It’s been great fun trying to keep a kid with hypermetabolism hydrated when he can’t keep everything down-“

“Tony he’s fifteen years old, not five you can leave him for a few hours, that’s all it’s gonna take-“

“No.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Sleeping.”

“He’ll probably still be asleep by the time you get back-“

“I said  _ no _ .” Tony growled menacingly. “I’m the one taking care of him, I wanna be here when he wakes up. You don’t have kids I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You didn’t have kids until a couple months ago don’t get preachy with me, Stark.”

“Then don’t be a cun-“

“Tony?” 

Tony cut himself off when he heard the other voice chime in; knowing that was probably a word he shouldn’t be introducing him to. “Hold on- P, you okay bud?” 

“You can go Mr. Stark, I’ll be okay.” Peter said confidently, in a croaky voice that sounded damn right painful. He sat up shakily on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes that were stinging thanks to the cold sterile fluorescent lights in the lab. 

“Kid, don’t worry about this. I’m not going anywhere-“

“I don’t want you getting in trouble ‘cause of me. I feel a lot better now anyway-“

“Well you look and sound like shit. I’m not leaving you alone for two hours while I go and do  _ someone else’s job.”  _ Tony added pointedly, yelling back in the direction of his phone, knowing Coulson could hear him. 

“I’m not a little kid Tony-“

“No but you’re my kid and my responsibility- now get your butt back on that couch before I kick it there.” Tony snapped, making the kid pout and sit back down. 

“You don’t trust me to stay alone for a couple hours?” Peter pouted and crossed his arms over his chest; in the perfect rendition of a stereotypical teenager. 

“No. No I do not.” Tony deadpanned. “I wouldn’t trust you when you weren’t sick, I know what kinda trouble you get into when you’re left unattended. Now you can’t even walk, you think I’d leave you?” 

_ “Ugh- Fine.  _ Then I’ll go upstairs, have someone else watch me.” 

Tony quirked an eyebrow. He’d figured that suggestion would be made at some point, but Peter’s was the last mouth he expected it to come from. The kid was usually so self conscious of the rest of the team seeing him in any kind of vulnerable state; he was always so conscious of constantly impressing them that the boy wouldn’t so much as admit he needed something. “Really?” 

“Yeah if it’ll make you feel better.” Peter conceded, sighing to himself. He wasn’t exactly happy about his suggestion either but the idea of Tony getting in trouble because of him made him feel sick- well, even sicker. He hated being a constant nuisance to the man. 

Tony squinted slightly, considering his options and trying to tell of Peter was being genuine. “Are you sure..?”

“It sounds important Mr. Stark I’d feel better if you just got it over with.” Peter shrugged. “And besides, I was being serious when I said I feel better- see?”

Peter illustrated his point by shaking the half empty water bottle he’d been given an hour or so before; he hadn’t thrown up in a few hours either, which meant Peter was finally able to retain some fluid, and that settled Tony's nerves greatly. He’d been worried that Bruce would have to set the boy up with an IV. “Hmm..I don’t know kid, I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you. I know you won’t ask the guys for help if you need it.”

“I will, Tony, I promise I will.” Peter said quickly. 

“Pinky promise me.” Tony said seriously, holding out his smaller digit for the younger to do the same. Peter shook the man’s hand and Tony sighed; returning to his phone call with a bitter bite to his tone. “Fine. What time?” 

So Tony ended up leaving around midday, much to the man’s extreme grievance; though he made sure to depart with strict instructions that should Peter’s condition worsen in anyway that the rest of the team were to inform him  _ immediately.  _ And he was clearly very anxious about the whole situation so everyone made a point to facilitate his requests and not belittle him; despite all agreeing that he was going a little overboard. 

But they hadn’t been the ones seeing Peter throw up so Tony didn’t really care what they think. “Alright kiddo, you be good yeah? Don’t give them any trouble when they try to do stuff for you, okay?” 

“I won’t Mr. Stark I promise.” Peter blushed at the way Tony was talking to him, like he was being left with a babysitter. He really didn’t like the idea of anyone waiting on him hand and foot; let alone the freaking Avengers. 

“Okay, I’ll be back in just a few hours, try to get some more sleep.” Tony sighed and ruffled the boy’s hair before turning away; having to bite back the urge to tell the kid he loved him before leaving. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to say it in front of the team, he just didn’t want everyone to see him so upset. Just a few hours. The kid would be fine. Stupid separation anxiety. 

Peter felt a little awkward sitting in the middle of the living room, curled up under a blanket in his pajamas; not that that itself was uncommon, but he didn’t like looking so obviously sick, it made him feel vulnerable. Most of the adults seemed to sense this and made a point to make themselves scarce; but Steve and Thor remained in the living room. Thor watching movies with the boy in an attempt to entertain him, and Steve was sitting at the table writing reports as opposed to going into his office, so he could keep an eye on him. 

Thor was making a concerted effort to try and cheer the boy up but all of his methods involved making Peter laugh; which wasn’t doing much in ways of keeping his head and throat from hurting. Every time Peter so much as talked it felt like his throat was being scratched by an angry cat and he’d just been forced to drink lemon juice. It wasn’t pleasant, so after a while Thor elected to leave the boy alone and he soon fell into a restless, feverish sleep. 

Peter didn’t sleep for too long, maybe an hour or so, before Steve was gently shaking him. “Hi kiddo, I’m really sorry to wake you but you’re due for more medicine.” 

“Mm.” Peter mumbled, blinking blearily as he attempted to sit up. “S’okay Mr. Rogers.” 

Steve gave the boy a small sympathetic smile as he helped him sit up; he certainly looked like he needed more medicine, his skin flushing a pale grey again and he was sweating profusely. “How are you feeling, son?”

“I’m..” Peter swallowed as he shifted his weight, feeling something off. He was covered in sweat yes, but his lower region was feeling considerably damper than the rest of him. Oh god, please don’t tell him he’d just wet himself on the couch- the  _ living room couch.  _ Whilst everyone else was home- and  _ Steve was watching him.  _

Peter stuttered for a moment trying to keep his cool as he realised he had yet to answer the blonds question; Steve looking at him worriedly. “Sorry I’m uh, I f-feel b-better.”

“You don’t have to put on a brave face with me, I know you’re feeling rough.” Steve smiled kindly, which made Peter feel even worse since the man didn’t know about the mess he’d just made- and there was no way he could possibly tell him. He’d have to wait and just- well- he didn’t know, he didn’t know what he was going to do- he’d have to wait till Tony got home to say anything, but maybe it would’ve dried by then- oh god but what if it didn’t? 

Peter felt himself start to hyperventilate slightly, which didn’t help the nausea in the slightest. The heavier his breathing became the more his stomach started to churn. 

But Steve didn’t notice this, not initially; he was more concerned about the boy’s blood sugar considering he had yet to eat that day, and had lost his meal from the night before. “Do you think you could try and eat something yet?”

Food was the furthest thing from the teens mind; in fact just envisioning himself putting anything in his mouth was enough to set his teeth on edge. “Uhm..I don’t know...” 

“Maybe just some juice or something?” Steve suggested, unknowingly making Peter feel even worse as he thought about any sugar sweet liquid. “Or some toast?”

That was it, Peter’s stomach had enough. The combination of anxiety and the mention of food was too much and Peter felt his stomach lurch. He swallowed hard to try and deter it but not a second later he felt a familiar rush of water into his mouth; telling him he had thirty seconds to get to the bathroom before the contents of his stomach came out of his mouth without his consent. 

Maybe thirty seconds was a bad estimation, because Peter made it into the bathroom in about seven and that was already cutting it close. He just about managed to get his head into the bowl before he began to heave. 

In his mad dash to get to the restroom, Peter had neglected to cover up the wet patch on the couch; though he was conscious of the one on his clothes. He yanked down a towel off of the rail to cover his lap just in the nick of time as Steve appeared in the doorway. 

“Oh, Peter.” Steve frowned sadly as he walked over to rub Peter’s back. The teenager tried to protest but he could barely move; his entire body was shaking and he was struggling to breathe let alone verbally protest. 

“I’m okay- you don’t have to-“ Was all Peter managed to say in between retches, and Steve paid zero attention. He just continued to rub the boy’s back as his body shuddered. 

But the fluid leaving his mouth wasn’t Peter’s only concern. Every time his stomach contacted, he felt a pull deep in his abdomen, signally how full his bladder was. He’d just woken up after being force fed countless bottles of water, it wasn’t a wonder why his bladder was so full- but there was nothing he could do about it. Even had he been alone in the room there was no way he could stand up long enough to pee- or even just to sit on the toilet. He couldn’t lift his head up for more than a second before another wave of vomit cascaded out of his mouth. The choice between peeing or puking on the floor would’ve been easier to make had he been alone- but oh no, Steve had to be all kind and responsible and caring and shit. 

He clenched his thighs desperately trying to avoid the inevitable but with each violent gag he felt his bladder contract and force a leak out of him. His crotch was very quickly becoming saturated and he was glad that he’d had the forethought to cover his lap so Steve didn’t know what was happening. 

“It’s alright buddy, just let it out.” Steve said gently. Little did he know he was only encouraging Peter’s bladder to empty itself even more, rewetting his already uncomfortably saturated clothes. 

“C-c-can you- can you le-“ Peter tried to get the words out, tried to beg Steve to step out for a minute but he knew it was futile. Even if Steve did leave- which he knew the man wouldn’t- he’d find out anyway when Peter had to ask for some more clothes. But maybe he could just throw up on himself to cover up the evidence? God no, that was disgusting- but it wasn’t as disgusting as the situation was humiliating. 

In a last ditch attempt to regain control, Peter bunched up the towel he was using to cover his shame and clenched his thighs around it, as tight as he possibly could. It helped for a moment, applying pressure to his crotch helped to trick his brain into thinking he was holding himself; but as soon as another wave hit more pee shot out of him quicker than he had the chance to clench his kegel muscles. 

Having bundled the fabric between his legs, the towel was no longer covering the expanding wet patch on his pants and it didn’t absorb enough of the fluid to stop a puddle forming beneath him. As a result, Steve quickly noticed what was happening as Peter dissolved into sobs. 

“Oh Peter, Peter hey, it’s alright- it’s okay buddy it happens.” The man soothed rushedly; though he knew drawing attention to what was happening was only making it worse he desperately wanted to reassure the boy. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay-“

“It’s not okay!” Peter sobbed brokenly as he spat what seemed to be the last of his stomach contents into the toilet bowl as his bladder continued to steadily empty; it only the organ had waited a few more seconds Peter might’ve been able to use the toilet, but no he had to go and wet himself like a baby then cry about it- in front of Steve no less. “This is so humiliating.” 

“I know it feels that way Pete, but I promise you it’s alright.” Steve said sadly, crouching down fully (being mindful of the puddle) to give the boy a half hug. He felt so awful for the kid and he knew nothing he could say could make the situation any less mortifying for him; he just had to do his best to show the boy he wasn’t mad or disgusted by it. “You couldn’t help it- I think anyone would’ve had an accident if they were puking that hard.” 

Steve’s attempts at comforting him, combined with the horrific embarrassment was enough to reduce the boy to emotional mess; but add the fact that his body was also aching all over, hurting in all the wrong places and he just felt so  _ drained _ \- it was the perfect cocktail to equal one distraught teenager. 

As embarrassing as it was to not only wet yourself but then cry about it- Peter couldn’t help it. His brain felt foggy and all he wanted to do was sleep, he was so exhausted physically and mentally. He was starting to regret ever telling Tony to leave, if only he’d been there maybe Peter would have to deal with marginally less embarrassment-

But right now he didn’t care. He was beyond caring; future Peter could worry about the scarring social implications of what just happened, but current Peter just wanted to shower and lay down. And luckily for him Steve was already ten steps ahead. 

Peter had essentially collapsed on the floor after his bout of sickness, so Steve gently moved him into a more comfortable and safe position before he stood up; after Peter had stopped crying so heavily of course. 

“Alright kiddo, I’m gonna grab you some clean clothes and you can hop in the shower okay? Don’t worry about the mess I’ll deal with it.” 

But even half conscious Peter shook his head and gave a slurred protest; “Mr. Rogers I can’t let you do that it’s too gross-“ 

“Hush, Tony said you weren’t to give me any trouble didn’t he?” Steve chided gently and Peter didn’t have the energy to argue; especially after he’d already caused enough issues for the man. “Are you gonna be okay to shower by yourself or-“

“I’ve got it.” Peter said quickly, swallowing thickly. Despite not having enough energy to care he was not about to put himself through the embarrassment that would come along with Steve Rogers helping him wash. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back- keep the door unlocked and sit on the bench okay? Yell if you need me.” 

It was a struggle but somehow Peter managed to get himself in the shower without either falling or passing out; he did as instructed, sitting on the bench and letting the water hit him, washing away a multitude of sins. He could barely keep his eyes open as the warm water enveloped him, it was just so soothing- but thankfully Steve stopped him from drifting off as he entered the room to clean up the mess and leave the boy some fresh clothes. 

Peter eventually emerged from the bathroom, face and eyes red but at least he was clean. When he made his way over to the couch he noted that it was completely clean and dry; he hoped that he’d either not wet enough in his sleep for it to soak into the cushion, or that it had dried before Steve saw it- but his hopes were dashed when he noticed his blanket had been replaced. Great. He couldn’t wait for when he was feeling better and he had the energy to worry himself sick over what Steve must think of him now. 

But the blond just smiled at him. “Hey kiddo, feel better?”

Peter managed a sheepish nod as he swayed slightly. He wanted to lay down but he couldn’t will his body to move for some reason. Steve just helped the process along by lifting the blanket for Peter to crawl under and gently nudged him until he sat down; he then moved the boy’s legs until they were tucked up underneath him and laid Peter on his side. “I grabbed a thinner blanket, the other one was making you burn up.” 

“Thank you Mr. Rogers.” Peter slurred into the couch. “M’sorry I made a mess.” 

He wanted to apologise much more profusely, and he no doubt would when he was feeling better, but Steve just shrugged it off. “No need to apologise sport, you couldn’t help it. Accidents happen, you never have to feel bad for needing help.” 

“It was gross.”

“I’ve seen a lot worse in my time, trust me.” Steve chuckled. “I asked Bruce to make you some intravenous meds’ Pete, is that okay? You need something for that fever but I know you can’t stomach it right now.” 

“Mhm.” Peter agreed though he wasn’t listening. He trusted Steve was gonna take care of him, especially after how nice the man had been about him literally just pissing on the floor- and the couch. It wasn’t like he had much fight in him anyway. 

“He said he’s gonna give you some glucose too so I don’t have to mention food again, I’m so sorry buddy.” 

“Not your faul’.” Peter slurred as his eyes drifted shut. He didn’t even get to finish his thought before he was out like a light. 

Steve just tutted to himself and sighed sadly, moving to tuck the boy in more comfortably and smooth back his damp hair. “Poor little guy.” 

Tony returned not forty minutes later, strolling into the living room and immediately rushing over to Peter once he saw the IV pole. “What the fuck- what happened to  _ calling me _ when something happens?!” 

“Shh!” Steve hissed. “Don’t wake him up! Nothing happened, he just threw up again and he hasn’t been able to eat, it’s glucose and painkillers, calm down!”

“You still should’ve called me.” Tony growled though he visibly relaxed. He sat down on the couch next to Peter’s legs and rested a hand on the boy’s calf. “Did he sleep the whole time?”

“Yeah. Most of it.” Steve said quickly. A little too quickly and Tony immediately picked up on it. 

“What happened.” 

“What? Nothing he-“

“He’s wearing different clothes.” Tony said flatly. “What happened?”

Steve tried his best to cover for Peter, he really did, but nothing got passed his eagle eyed friend. “I told you he was sick again-“

“He pissed himself didn’t he?”

“Will you  _ hush _ .” Steve sighed tiredly at the man’s crudeness. He knew for a fact Peter wouldn’t have enjoyed that information being shared let alone being described in such a way; and he really didn’t want Peter to wake up in the middle of such a conversation. “Yes he had a bit of an accident while he was being sick.” 

Tony pouted slightly. “Poor bubs, did he get upset?” 

“What do you think?” Steve sighed again. He really hadn’t planned on going into detail about the incident. It wasn’t as though it was something Tony had to know, it hadn’t impacted the boy’s health so he was content to keep it between them. “I don’t plan on mentioning it again and I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell him I told you.”

“You didn’t, I guessed.”

“You know what I mean.”

Tony just nodded, sighing tiredly as he moved to brush Peter’s hair off of his face. “Thanks for taking care of him Steveo, I know that wasn’t pleasant. I should’ve been the one dealing with all this, not you.”

“It was much worse for him and you know I don’t mind.” Steve shrugged, looking sadly over at their youngest. He knew just how shy Peter was going to be around him after all that, and he was dreading it. It felt like taking three steps backwards. “Though I think he might’ve been a little more comfortable if it was you.”

“Yeah. Next time I’ll tell Coulson to shove his meeting up his ass, I ain’t leaving my kid again.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know what possessed me to write this one since I’m severely emetophobic- though this exact situation happened to me like last week so go figure lmao  
> It didn’t come out how I wanted it to either, I wanted to go more in depth with Steve comforting Peter but I’ll have to save that for another time when I actually have time 😅


End file.
